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When I was a bride I taught myself how to cook, and custards were among my first triumphs. I read about soft, stove top custards (called "Boiled Custard" in the South), baked custard, caramel cup custard (or crème caramel), even crème brulée. I had made them all except crème brulée, which I have yet to do, but shall one day. I've made custard pies and fresh fruit with custard sauce. I've made the packaged "puddings" since I was a child, but there are times when I hanker for plain old custard.
I have the basic recipe for custard in my head--two cups of whole milk, 1/4 cup of sugar, two egg yolks and one whole egg, and a teaspoon of vanilla extract. The more I thought about it, the more I found myself mentally making a custard, but all this mental exercise wasn't getting me any creamy dessert. I could make a soft custard in a matter of minutes--but a baked custard would take about an hour in the oven. Never mind, it could be baked in my little glass custard cups and would be neatly portioned out for the future. I would forget about the burnt sugar topping (poured in the bottom of the cups, later inverted) and make the plain delicious stuff.
For company I usually do the caramel, and use some half-and-half in the mixture. But this spartan version would serve just as well for me. I measured the milk into a saucepan and brought it to the "scald" stage while I whisked the egg yolks, egg, and sugar in a bowl. I had to search through my pans for a big enough to hold the four cups plus hot water to keep the custard from overcooking. I added the warm milk to the eggs while water heated up and the oven heated up to 325° Fahrnheit. Baked the custards for an hour while I watched television.
It was a first run-through for the dessert in my new kitchen, and for that, the outcome was perfect. The little custards were nice, plain--and perfect comfort food. I must do them again sometime soon.
Here is my late mum's recipe in case you'd like to try it. http://lettersfromahillfarm.blogspot.com/2007/09/sunday-supper-custard-and-coffeecake.html
ReplyDeleteThanks, Nan. Honey is an interesting addition--but why not scald the milk? Nothing hard about it...
ReplyDeleteLovely story! On her own, our daughter started cooking crème brulée in middle school. One day, she asked me to buy her a torch! What fun we had going torch shopping together. In high school, she'd volunteer to make a large batch of crème brulée (8-inch square pan; 1.5-inch deep custard) for her choir group's potlucks. She'd make it ahead of time, but always brought her sugar and torch to add the hard brulée top coating just before serving. She had to negotiate with school security to bring the torch on campus ... and had to do the process outside, once even under the eaves during a rainstrom. But she loved making and sharing the delights of crème brulée so much that she didn't complain. Bon appetit!
ReplyDeleteYou've convinced me, Mike--I'll try a creme brulee. I shall broil it in the oven, old-style, to see if I can get it right that way, and if I end up making a lot of it I'll buy one of those blowtorch thingies. I do love it when it's made well!
ReplyDeleteJust didn't bother one time, and it turned out great. plus heated milk makes me a wee bit squeamish. :<)
ReplyDeleteI had heard you don't have to scald the milk, but for old times' sake, I wanted to. I find warm milk comforting--used to have it before bedtime for sleeping. We seem to have the opposite exposure to it!
ReplyDeleteYou've rekindled my fondness for custard. I plan to make a batch soon!
ReplyDeleteCustard must be a southern dessert. Or maybe my mother just didn't like it!
ReplyDeleteMy mother never made it. She hated cooking! But what she called "rice pudding" was basically a baked custard with instant rice in it. And "bread pudding" was custard with day-old raisin bread in it, more like the English "bread-and-butter" pudding I believe. She didn't soak the bread, and I remember her buttering it.
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